


Red

by GreenBottle



Series: Miracles [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10494849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBottle/pseuds/GreenBottle
Summary: Theodore’s reputation was already in tatters – how much more damage could a date with a baker do to it?





	

_This story is more about love, and less about sex. This is the first time that I have managed to complete a piece of writing, and I am feeling considerably proud of myself. Being an archiveofourown debutante, I would greatly appreciate your feedback and any comments that you may have. As much as I like to see my story finished and published, I have enjoyed writing it even more, and I am willing to boastfully admit that I've loved every minute of it._

 

Young Theodore, dressed in his best suit and with his wavy, ginger hair combed neatly, was waiting patiently in his bedroom, until called downstairs to entertain parents’ guests.  
‘What an exceptionally talented son you have’ praised mother’s and father’s friends from the Old Party, clapping their hands, when Theodore finished singing and took his hands off the piano keys.  
‘Theodore!’ called mother. ‘Please tell gentlemen about what you have learned at the Academy lately.’  
Theodore stood up from the piano stool, smiling confidently. He knew exactly what mother was referring to.  
‘According to my teachers at the Academy, it ought to be declared illegal for husbands to be permitted to dismiss their wives after ten years of sonless marriage, as currently stated by the law. The New Party recommends that both spouses should be held equally responsible for failure to produce an heir, as it is as much the husband’s fault, as it is the wife’s’ recited Theodore.  
The guests laughed heartily, and father patted Theodore on the head approvingly.  
‘I’ve heard that those New Party fools want to get rid of the women’s camps next!’ exclaimed a grey-haired gentleman with binoculars. ‘Create cheap workplaces for women instead, they say! Community’s responsibility to ensure humanitarian conditions for each one of the ugly, stupid whores, they say!’  
‘What a load of baloney’ agreed another gentleman. ‘Just what the taxpayers need – dump all that money down the drain!’  
‘We could not be any happier that poor Theodore only has one more year of this nonsense to endure’ said mother. ‘We look forward to withdrawing him from the Academy as soon as he turns twelve, and finally being able to provide him with an education, that every respectable fertile should receive.’  
All the guests nodded in approval, and Theodore beamed.

 

Theodore knew that it was mandatory for fertiles to attend the Academy, and that even his parents couldn’t do anything about it. Most Old Party families tricked the system, however, by sending their sons in as early as possible, hoping that by the time the compulsory ten years were up, their children would be still too young to sustain any permanent damage. Theodore had been barely two, when mother and father had taken him into the Academy for the first time, and one of his earliest memories involved his mother, pointing to other young fertiles in the classroom and instructing Theodore who he was, or wasn’t, allowed to play with.  
Theodore knew that he had not enjoyed his time at the Academy at all, because that’s what mother and father always told him. By the time he had been six, he would throw angry tantrums, refusing to get up from his bed and go to school in the morning, to his parents’ delight. Fortunately, due to the frequent nosebleeds and poor health, something that Theodore couldn’t quite recall from his memory that well, he had not been able to attend the Academy that often.  
But now Theodore was eighteen, and the Academy was nothing more than a vague, bad memory. Theodore now had a personal tutor, and every Sunday he attended an Old Party youth wing group, that all of his friends went to.  
Theodore knew how fortunate he had been to be born into such a respectable home. Mother’s uncle was an Archbishop of the Capital, and mother’s older brother was recently promoted to a bishop himself. Theodore’s father was the only son of one of the leaders of the Old Party, and grandfather intended father for his successor. With both of Theodore’s parents being fertiles, when mother fell pregnant after six years of marriage, it was hardly a miracle that Theodore was born a fertile, too.  
Despite his young age, Theodore was already engaged to one of father’s friends from the Old Party. Father was determined to at least ensure that his son could follow the natural calling for his gender and become a wife, while he himself had been prevented from doing so.  
Theodore knew that his paternal grandfather deeply regretted marrying a woman in his youth, tempted by her large dowry, as he had ended up with a fertile heir, rather than a male son, that he had so desired. Ever since father’s birth, grandfather had been determined to prove to everyone that his only son was as good as a boy would be, and coerced father into placing an offer on Theodore’s mother’s hand, rather than selling father to the man that father had fallen in love with.  
Ironically enough, Theodore’s mother himself had desired nothing more than to marry a woman and live as a husband, something that his family had considered to be both below their status, and financially inconvenient. Theodore’s parents therefore couldn’t be any more miserable in their unfortunate marriage, but Theodore wasn’t going to pretend that their unhappiness justified what they both had done.  
Theodore knew that to the world they were a perfect family, but the world did not know his parents’ sins.  
When Theodore was around twelve, his mother took in a new woman servant. She was a pretty little thing, with large blue eyes and dark hair, who blushed whenever Theodore’s mother came anywhere near her. Still, mother insisted that the girl was to be his personal maid, and two years later, the servant’s uniform no longer fitted her around the waist. Theodore was told that the girl was sent to the women’s camp for disgracing her family, where she died shortly after, supposedly committing suicide and taking her unborn baby with her. Mother found a new maid, and several years later, that one killed herself, too.  
Father, in the meantime, had been too preoccupied with his own extramarital relationship to even notice anything. A good-looking man would visit him whenever mother wasn’t at home, and eventually Theodore’s family had to go on a long holiday to the Eastern Lakes, as father could not hide the fact that he was pregnant for much longer. Theodore, who was fifteen at the time, knew that his father’s pregnancy would perhaps be considered rather embarrassing in the society, but forgotten eventually, if only the child were born a fertile, proving that it was still a result of his parents’ relationship. The baby that was born at the Eastern Lakes couldn’t be a fertile, though, because even though Theodore could hear him cry loudly in the first minutes of his life, his parents later told him that his brother had been stillborn, and would not even let Theodore see the body. They all returned to the Capital shortly after the funeral, and Theodore didn’t need to be told to keep it all a secret.  
Now, two years before his own marriage, Theodore could not wait to leave his family home and all the skeletons in the closet. He hardly even spoke to his mother and father anymore, locked in his bedroom for most of the time, studying for his Home Certificates, reading and playing the piano, while crossing the days out on the calendar on the wall.  
Theodore only met his fiancé several times – he was ten years older than him, relatively good-looking and very ambitious, when it came to his political career. Theodore hoped that they would become friends, eventually, but if his parents’ relationship had taught him anything, it was not to expect too much and to count on himself, rather than on other people.

 

On their wedding night, Theodore’s husband took one look at his wife’s groin and whistled loudly.  
‘Now, look at that...’ his husband said, clearly unimpressed.  
Theodore blushed in embarrassment and as soon as he saw his husband’s penis, he realised that his own was not normal.  
While his husband had perfectly shaped genitalia, the size of Theodore’s thumb, just like the ones on the ancient sculptures, that Theodore had seen in the Capital museum, Theodore’s own looked like its overgrown caricature: heavy, thick and long. How could he not have noticed that there was something wrong with it before?  
‘Nobody’s perfect’ summarised Theodore’s husband grudgingly, and consummated their marriage anyway.  
All that Theodore could think of, when he was lying under his husband, barely even feeling his perfectly normal penis inside him, was Theodore’s own deformed organ. His husband seemed to fit so well in Theodore’s vagina, and Theodore dreaded to think what would happen if he himself ever attempted to penetrate anyone with that... thing, that he had between his legs. Curse his parents for their hypocrisy! If he had actually seen other penises before his wedding night, perhaps he would be able to warn his husband before the poor man married him, but with his parents keeping up their appearances of prudency so tightly, Theodore had never even been allowed to attend the Capital gymnasium.

 

Five years later, Theodore was considering himself relatively happily married.  
His husband was a very busy man, just as Theodore had hoped he would be. Except for compulsory dinners together every evening and sexual intercourses every Sunday, Theodore hardly saw him at all, unless they went to the Old Party meetings together. Perhaps they were not friends, but they seemed to be getting on quite well, as they had so many things in common. Theodore was very involved in his husband’s political campaign and he knew that his work was being appreciated. Theodore was a perfect wife, that every politician dreamt of – devoted, but happy to stay in the background. Theodore’s husband enjoyed taking him to parties and outings, and all his friends praised how eloquent and elegant his wife was. Theodore knew that perhaps he would not win any awards for his looks – not with his red hair and freckled complexion, bleak, grey eyes, unimpressive features and small stature – but he was making up for it with his class and intelligence.  
Shortly after obtaining his Home Certificates, with his husband’s approval, Theodore had applied for a teaching position in one of the most traditional secondary schools for boys in the Capital. It was an ideal job for a politician’s wife, and between his professional career and involvement in the Old Party, Theodore was perfectly content with his life. He had maintained most of his old friendships from the youth wing, and formed many new ones in his workplace. Theodore was always the one organising charity events and work Christmas parties, and he liked to think that everyone in the society held him in a high esteem.  
He had not been blessed with a child just yet, but it was still too early to worry. Theodore always found the name of his gender ironic, as fertiles were known to struggle to conceive or fertilise, only ever had a small number of offspring and did not tolerate pregnancies well. Compared to the women, who could easily give birth every year, and men, who could have as many children as they wanted, fertiles were anything but fertile.  
In the meantime, Theodore had his pupils to nurture and look after, even though he was careful not to spoil them too much. Maths and physics were difficult subjects, requiring concentration and hard work. Theodore knew that he had a reputation of a strict teacher, but that did not mean that he did not care about his boys. Perhaps he never received anonymous love letters, that other fertiles, employed at the school, always chuckled about in the teachers’ room, perhaps he wasn’t getting as many flowers and candies as his colleagues, but his pupils knew that they could rely on him. When a young student disclosed to Theodore that another teacher was mistreating him, Theodore used all of his connections and had the man dismissed within days. Since then, more distressed boys were knocking on the door of his office every week, and Theodore knew that as much as they feared and respected their maths and physics teacher, the boys knew that they could come to him with even the most embarrassing secrets. Theodore often stayed late after work, helping the less talented students with their homework, meeting with arrogant parents, and planning trips and extracurricular activities for his beloved boys. He simply enjoyed his job too much to just walk away with the last bell.  
The only thing that spoiled Theodore’s perfect life, was his deformity, and the illness, that must have stemmed from it. Theodore knew that libido was something perfectly natural in an adult fertile, but with his frequent weekly intercourses with his husband there was no excuse for the constant arousal, that he was experiencing. Theodore had to wear several layers of very tight underwear at all times, while his wardrobe consisted mostly of long, loose tunics and thick-fabric trousers, in attempt to conceal his already visibly deformed crotch, even when he wasn’t being bothered by one of those spontaneous, extremely upsetting erections. Theodore could only thank heavens that as soon as he was in bed with his husband, the fire raging in his abdomen would die completely. Theodore’s husband was finding his quiet attitude in bed extremely endearing, more than pleased to find his wife so dignified and chaste, and Theodore would rather die, than show him his true colours.  
The truth was that while Theodore enjoyed their Sunday intercourses, and appreciated greatly how tactful his husband was about his deformity, careful to touch his flaccid, deformed penis as little as possible, all that Theodore wanted his husband to do was to stimulate it, stroke it, rub it along its whole ridiculous length, squeeze it hard and make him ejaculate, just as Theodore himself was doing on all the other days of the week. He was deeply ashamed of himself, but the need was too overpowering, and even when he was trying to stop himself from touching his deformity, he would wake up in the middle of the night, rubbing himself against the mattress and with his hands already under the waistband of his bottoms. He could only be glad that his husband’s bedroom was on the opposite end of the house from his own, as on many nights he would not manage to hold back his loud moans. Theodore now had to keep a large supply of handkerchiefs in his nightstand, as his abnormal penis tended to produce high volumes of disgusting, white, thick sperm, so different from his husband’s few drops of discreet, thin substance.  
Theodore was greatly disturbed by his immoral deeds, and often wondered bitterly whether his condition was a penance for his parents’ sins.

 

Six years later, Theodore no longer wondered whether he was being punished – he now knew that he was. After eleven years of childless marriage, Theodore’s husband demanded a divorce.  
Theodore had tried everything – expensive potions and mineral water treatments, a pilgrimage to the Blessed Land, diet rich in eggs and milk – all his attempts had been fruitless. God decided that Theodore did not deserve a child, because he had allowed his mother and father kill the three of his siblings.  
‘Perhaps it has something to do with both of his parents being fertiles, you know... It must have made him sterile, like a mule...’ He overheard his husband talking to Theodore’s father-in-law one day.  
A mule...! Is that how his husband perceived him? Theodore had never felt more humiliated in his life.  
The day after his husband’s announcement, Theodore moved back to his parents’ house. A week later, he received his dismissal from his teaching position. Two days after that, a letter arrived, making it clear that under the current circumstances, Theodore’s presence at the next Old Party meeting was no longer required. A very distressed friend knocked on Theodore’s door that same day, extremely sorry to have to withdraw his invitation to his wedding. At least this one had a decency to show his face – other people, whom Theodore had considered friends once, barely dropped short notes, excluding him from every social event in the foreseeable future.  
On the winter morning a month later, Theodore walked into the Home Court as a married fertile, and walked out as a disgraced divorcee.  
His husband didn’t even want his money back. Everyone was impressed by this honourable gesture, and they all sympathised with him greatly, while casting condemning looks towards Theodore. A fertile, who would not give his husband a son – the Court had never heard of a similar case before.  
Theodore’s parents were in despair, accusing Theodore of shaming the family’s name forever.  
‘At least I have not had any children to murder’ Theodore told them stoically, locking himself up in his old bedroom, where his study notes were still piled up neatly on the shelves. And to think that he had been so certain, that he was never coming back.

 

Theodore lost so much weight in the year after his divorce, that his father had to buy him new clothes. Theodore was now working as a tutor to a group of wealthy girls; a job that no respectable teacher would accept, but which was all that a disgraced one, like himself, could hope for. It did not even pay well enough to afford new clothes, not to mention moving out of Theodore’s family home.  
His parents were going to die one day, Theodore kept telling himself. And as soon as their bodies were lowered into the ground, Theodore was going to sell the house, take out his inheritance from the Home Bank and move to the other end of the world.  
His mother kept pressuring Theodore to at least try to find another husband.  
‘I am a fertile, who cannot have children. Can’t you not see how that might be a problem?’ Theodore would ask his mother sarcastically.  
Father took a more gentle approach, and rather than trying to convince Theodore to advertise, he was simply trying to spend more time with his son, taking him for long walks on the beach and to the library, hoping that his son’s beloved books would distract Theodore from his sad reality. They weren’t talking much, and they still hardly knew each other at all, but Theodore was feeling closer to his father than he had ever felt before. Perhaps that’s why he agreed to go with father to a matchmaking party, after all.  
It wasn’t one of the upper-class parties that Theodore had attended as a teenager – he did not stand the slightest chance of finding a husband of similar status, as the one who had divorced him a year ago. Rather than to a luxurious venue in the centre of the Capital, Theodore’s father took him to the tearooms on the outskirts, where new money and lower classes were hoping to find the less expensive fertile wives.  
Despite his age, gaunt face and unattractive hair colour, Theodore was one of the better looking fertiles at the party, and men started to queue for a chance to speak to him. As soon as Theodore told the first one about the reasons behind his divorce, all the other ones walked away. Theodore was desperate to get out of there and go back home, but he knew that his father, waiting in a carriage outside, would be disappointed, if his son gave up so soon.  
Half an hour later, when Theodore’s tea was already cold, a short, overweight and middle-aged, brown-eyed man with a very bad haircut, approached his table.  
‘I can’t have children, I am deformed’ Theodore fired out instantly, but the man asked if he could join him anyway.  
‘I’m Matthew’ he introduced himself, looking at Theodore with his small, warm eyes. ‘I already have a son, and I’m hoping more for companionship, rather than children.’  
Theodore glared at Matthew suspiciously, but when the waiter came to their table, he ordered another tea.  
‘My son is also a fertile, and I have just found out that I am about to become a grandfather’ announced Matthew, smiling broadly.  
Theodore could not help feeling offended. How indelicate of the man to speak about his son’s pregnancy, when Theodore had just told him that he could not have children himself.  
Matthew seemed oblivious to Theodore’s distress, and he carried on chatting, telling Theodore how excited he was about his upcoming trip to some Southern shire this autumn.  
‘I have never left the bakery for so long before, and I must admit that I’m feeling rather anxious, but this new manager...’  
Theodore groaned internally. The man’s natter was irritating enough, and now it turned out that he was just a mere baker. Perhaps Theodore was a disgraced divorcee, but he still had some pride left.  
‘Maybe I could invite you for a cake sometime? Killian always loved my baking’ Matthew made his very forward invitation. ‘You look like you could do with some cake’ he added rudely.  
The man was not only taking Theodore for some harlot, but was also openly criticizing his thinness. Theodore was fuming inside, but his expression was as composed as ever, when he politely refused.  
‘That’s a shame’ said Matthew, looking crestfallen. ‘I hope that I have not offended you anyhow. You must forgive me; I really have no idea how to talk to fertiles, let alone to one as exceptional, as yourself...’  
He seemed so genuine, and Theodore could not help but take pity on him.  
‘I would love to try some of your cakes, Matthew. How do I find that bakery of yours?’  
Theodore’s reputation was already in tatters – how much more damage could a date with a baker do to it?

 

Matthew’s bakery turned out to be a large, well-maintained and prosperous business, but the same could not have been told about the state of the poor man’s house. Theodore looked in horror at the well-used furniture, frayed carpet and not very clean curtains in Matthew’s drawing room. The sooner his baker friend found himself a wife, the better, Theodore thought.  
Matthew was not even trying to hide his profound attraction to Theodore, and in return, Theodore could not help telling Matthew how much he enjoyed the delicious apple pie of his production. They ended up talking for hours, and although the two of them could not be any more different, it was impossible not to like Matthew; not with his warm eyes and kind smile, soft voice and such caring attitude. He reminded Theodore of one of his favourite students back at the school, and Theodore could not help feeling a bit protective of this simple, good-hearted man, who, when inviting someone to his house for a cake, only ever meant a cake.  
Theodore surprised himself with agreeing to another date, and even after coming back home and locking himself up in his bedroom, he could not stop thinking about how happy and excited Matthew had been at the prospect of seeing Theodore again.  
That horrible shirt of Matthew’s, though. All wrinkled and frayed at the collar, and hadn’t Theodore spotted a button missing? That man really needed someone to take a good care of him.

 

Theodore and Matthew were due to marry shortly, exactly two months after their first date over an apple pie, and Theodore’s mother could not be more furious, and his father more delighted.  
‘Follow your heart, son. Don’t listen to us, old fools’ his father told him on the day before his wedding.  
Theodore did not think that he had a heart anymore, but something twisted painfully in his chest, seeing his father trying so desperately to redeem himself in his only living child’s eyes. When Matthew came to the house to sign their marriage contract later that day, father accepted the money, but as soon as his future son-in-law left, he handed the whole large payment to Theodore, saying that his son deserved it more than himself.  
Matthew was not a logical choice of a husband in any respect – he was a simple and uneducated, working-class man who supported the New Party, but it could not be more obvious that he needed Theodore desperately in his life, and Theodore was ashamed to admit that it was all that it had taken to accept his marriage proposal. Theodore simply could not function, while not saving some poor soul from their misery, and Matthew seemed perfect for the job.  
Although Theodore knew that his future husband was a good man, he still didn’t know what to make of Matthew’s tearful confession that he had made a week into their relationship, disclosing how guilty he felt for selling his crippled son to a pair of uncivilised Southerners. Theodore knew that this had been what Matthew’s son wanted, and that the marriage had worked out rather well in the end, but he could not help questioning Matthew’s decision a bit. In the end, he decided to reserve his judgement until he met Killian in person, which was to happen in five months.

 

On Theodore's wedding day, mother took one look at Matthew’s brother, looking wealthy and imposing in his colonel’s uniform, and announced that he was now willing to forgive his son, as apparently Theodore’s husband’s relatives were basically an upper class, if anyone asked. Theodore just walked past her and took his newly married husband by his large, calloused hand of a manual labourer.  
They were going to spend their honeymoon in one of the nearby spa towns, where all the New Party supporters went on holiday. Theodore found it both ironic and fortunate, looking forward to not having to dread bumping into his old acquaintances for the whole week of their stay.  
When their carriage drove off, Theodore looked resentfully at his family home, praying with all his might that this time he was leaving it for good.

 

On their wedding night, Matthew put out all the candles before they undressed themselves. Theodore was very touched by the gesture – unlike his first husband, Matthew had been warned that his wife was abnormally built down there, and it was very considerate of him, trying to save Theodore the embarrassment.  
‘I have never been with a fertile before; please tell me if I'm not doing it right’ whispered Matthew anxiously.  
All of Theodore’s own fears disappeared instantly, and he took his good, kind husband into his arms, reassuring him with a kiss.  
Matthew seemed to be in no rush, which confused Theodore a bit. Rather than simply penetrating him, his husband wanted to caress him first, asking for permission before touching his chest and hips. Theodore feared that if Matthew carried on, his deformed penis might start to respond, and was desperate to avoid such humiliation.  
‘Can we just get on with it, please?’ he asked Matthew, hoping that he wasn’t hurting his husband’s feelings too much.  
Matthew started to apologise immediately, fighting with the bedcovers in the darkness, when he rushed to get on top of his wife. He was only a little taller than Theodore, but so much stouter and heavier, but when he lay between his tights, pressing his large, soft stomach against Theodore’s poking ribs, it did not feel uncomfortable.  
Theodore could feel Matthew’s hand between his tights, touching his vagina probingly.  
‘Are you sure that you are ready, sweetheart?’ muttered Matthew uncertainly.  
Matthew knew that Theodore wasn’t a virgin, so what was he so worried about? Besides, even during his first time, Theodore had hardly felt any pain at all.  
He told his husband all of that, and eventually Matthew kissed him on the lips, while guiding his penis towards Theodore’s entrance.  
As soon as Theodore felt something large and hard, trying to tear him asunder, he screamed in terror.  
‘What on Earth are you trying to put there?!’  
Matthew panicked completely, struggling to untangle himself from the sheets, while searching for a candle in the darkness. He managed to lit it eventually, and stared at Theodore with his eyes full of guilt and puzzlement.  
Theodore himself was curled up on the far end of the bed, clutching the covers close to his chest, and unable to stop his eyes from wandering down onto his husband’s naked groin.  
‘Oh dear Lord’ slipped from Theodore’s mouth.  
His husband’s penis was even more deformed that his own, and Theodore couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering, when he realised how close he had just been to a severe injury.  
‘Why did you not tell me?’ Theodore asked his husband accusingly.  
It took many confused questions and answers, before Matthew finally grasped what Theodore was so angry about.  
‘What do you mean it’s not normal... There is nothing wrong with it, sweetheart, and if yours looks anything like mine, there is also nothing wrong with you...’ Matthew kept saying, sneaking back under the covers, but keeping his hands on himself.  
‘But I know there is! My first husband told me so!’ protested Theodore, still refusing to believe that he could have been deceived so cruelly by a man that he’d been married to for eleven years.  
‘Listen to me, Theo. Tomorrow morning I am taking you to the thermal baths, where you will see with your own eyes that all the other men and fertiles look exactly the same as you’ his husband said firmly.  
This was all wrong, thought Theodore desperately. No one ever called him Theo, and it was supposed to be him, taking care of his husband, not the other way around.  
Matthew put the candle out and kissed Theodore chastely on the cheek, before falling asleep next to him, holding his hand. Theodore himself could not close his eyes for a long time.

 

Theodore had no choice but to follow his husband into the spa changing rooms the following morning, and eventually Matthew managed to convince his wife to use the public thermal baths, showing his naked butt proudly to the world himself, while Theodore trotted behind him anxiously with a towel wrapped securely around his hips. He would not take it off even after they were already in the pool.  
They were surrounded by men and fertiles with penises even larger than Theodore’s own, and Matthew had to hold his hand for a long time, while Theodore pretended that the wetness on his cheeks was just water. He had not cried since he was a child, and he could not be any more embarrassed, that his husband had to see him like this. Eventually, Theodore bravely removed his soaked towel and put it by the edge of the pool.  
‘It’s a beautiful little cock... I mean... very nice, average-sized penis, that you have there’ said Matthew, and Theodore was reminded again how much he liked his new husband.

 

Theodore and Matthew started going to the baths twice a day since then, and when they were not in the water, they would go for long walks to the park, dine at the restaurants and visit the sites, doing everything that a newlywed couple was supposed to do, except for consummating their marriage.  
‘Please try not to touch me so much; I really don’t want you to find out how disgustingly revolting I am becoming, when succumbing to arousal’ Theodore instructed Matthew sternly, when on their second night, his husband made another attempt at having a sexual intercourse with him.  
‘What...?’ asked Matthew confusedly, before shortly resuming with trying to swallow one of Theodore’s flat, pale nipples.  
‘If you continue doing... whatever it is that you are doing, the outcome may be less than pleasant’ lectured Theodore, referring to his very embarrassing illness.  
Matthew stopped doing whatever it was that he was doing, and demanded more detailed information.  
Blushing and stammering, Theodore had no choice but to make a vague disclosure of something, that he had only ever planned on keeping to himself. To his absolute amazement, rather than being shocked to find that his wife was in fact an immoral, even though very remorseful onanist, Matthew was looking at him with great pity in his brown eyes.  
‘My sweet little wife, what has been done to you to make you think of yourself in such a way?’ asked Matthew, stroking Theodore’s hair comfortingly.  
Looking into his husband’s warm, kind eyes, for the first time in his life Theodore did not feel judged. Before Theodore knew it, all of his deepest, most guarded and shameful secrets had been revealed.  
After speaking to each other about it for hours, with Matthew doing most of the talking and Theodore shocking himself with every new confession that was coming out of his lips, Theodore now knew that not only there had never been any deformity, but also no illness, as touching himself until ejaculating was something that most fertiles and men did to themselves all the time.  
‘Do you want to watch me doing it, Theo?’ asked Matthew, and Theodore almost fell off the bed.  
Despite providing Theodore with clear evidence, that there was nothing anatomically wrong with any of them, Matthew insisted on waiting until his wife was feeling slightly more comfortable with the idea of being impaled onto something that, when looking at it from a logical perspective, simply could not possibly fit inside anyone’s vagina.  
Being a religious person, Theodore only hoped that his first husband had been as ignorant on the subject of penises as himself, otherwise Theodore was going to chase that pathetic excuse for a man all the way to the very gates of hell.

 

Perhaps over the past week Theodore had not been acting normally at all, behaving like a needy child instead, desperate for comfort and reassurance from poor Matthew all the time, not to mention crying in public and humiliating his husband even further, but he was still enough of his old self to know his duties. Theodore would be damned, if he let Matthew return home from his honeymoon without getting what any respectable wife should give.  
‘Are you sure that it’s not going to harm me?’ asked Theodore again fearfully on their last afternoon at the spa, after they had returned to their room from the thermal baths.  
‘Only if you let me do it properly’ answered Matthew, getting on the bed next to him.  
Doing it properly involved kissing and touching Theodore everywhere, until his penis was erected, and his vagina as wet as Matthew thought it should be, letting his finger slip in and out of it easily.  
Matthew put a pillow under Theodore’s hips, and placed himself between his wife’s tights.  
‘Perhaps we should consider consulting a physician first, I still don’t think that this is... Ouch!’ Theodore yelped in pain, when his husband brutally bit him on his very sensitive earlobe. ‘Why on Earth would you do something like that!?’  
Instead of answering, Matthew was just looking at Theodore with a very smug expression of someone, who got their way in the end, and finally Theodore noticed that, while he was still distracted by rubbing his sore ear furiously, Matthew had shoved his penis inside his wife’s vagina.  
‘I can feel you there’ whispered Theodore in amazement, and his husband smiled at him with his eyes, like only Matthew could smile.  
Theodore couldn’t really describe how it felt to have something so substantial inside him, except that although not entirely comfortable, it did not seem to be hurting him in any way. His whole groin was pulsating confusedly, and Theodore couldn’t help but give an exploratory squeeze with his muscles, feeling his husband’s hard, hot penis trying to poke through the front wall of his vagina, and out through his stomach. Matthew was trying to help him relax, and covered him with the whole of himself, like a heavily weighted blanket.  
Oh, it was nice; very, very nice. Matthew’s body was so warm and squishy, and his arms were well muscled under all that soft padding, realised Theodore, after both of his own hands started wandering around, apparently on their own accord, as Theodore had never ordered them to do so. Even before losing so much weight, Theodore had already been very slim himself, just like his mother and father, and also his first husband, for that matter. Theodore’s previous experiences of sexual intercourses involved lots of sharp bones, poking him in various places, but Matthew was just like a heavy, overgrown teddy bear for him to cuddle with. Theodore could not help but run his hands on his husband’s back next, reaching for all those cute little rolls of fat.  
Matthew chuckled and squirmed under his touch, and Theodore smiled, learning that his husband had tickles. Matthew lifted himself on his elbows, looking Theodore deep in the eye.  
‘My very own, gorgeous little fertile wife’ he said, kissing him and starting to slowly move inside him next.  
That almost hurt, but it was a similar kind of pain that Theodore felt, when touching his erected penis. It was very different, feeling it from the inside, but at the same time not completely unfamiliar. As nervous as Theodore had initially been, now that the worst part was over, he was feeling strangely curious. So that’s what he had been missing on for eleven years of his joke of a marriage. It felt strangely alike to when his parents, after years of tricking him into believing that soda water with apple juice in his glass was champagne, had eventually let him try the real thing on his eighteenth birthday. Theodore had not liked it initially, but now he rather enjoyed the taste of it. When Matthew also started touching Theodore’s external genitalia with his hand, just like Theodore always dreamt of being touched, he immediately found himself close to ejaculating in front of another person.  
‘Are you quite certain that you won’t find it off-putting?’ he hissed through his gritted teeth, trying to stifle a moan.  
Theodore never had a chance to hear Matthew’s answer, because at this very moment, his body slipped from under control of his mind and Theodore actually screamed out loud, ejaculating in his husband’s hand and covering them both in spurs of his disgusting, thick and smelly sperm.  
Matthew simply wiped his hand on the covers, and now well supported on both of his elbows over Theodore, he started moving his hips much faster and with greater force, driving Theodore’s skinny backside deep into the pillow.  
‘The most... beautiful... thing... I've ever... seen...’ Matthew accentuated his every word with another powerful thrust, using Theodore’s vagina in exactly the same way, that Theodore liked to use his own hand – hard and without mercy.  
‘Stop torturing me’ Theodore was trying to order his husband firmly, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like a delighted purr.  
Theodore’s vagina kept contracting strongly, like it always did after he ejaculated, but it had never had anything huge and hot inside it to hug before, as if trying to swallow his husband’s penis and keep it there forever. Theodore could see how much Matthew enjoyed it, and feeling wonderfully relaxed and sated himself, he was very happy to discover that his body seemed to know exactly what to do, to please his husband. Him and Matthew were simply made for each other, thought Theodore contentedly. How silly of him to ever worry about pain and hurt, how childish!  
After Matthew ejaculated himself, they lay on their sides, facing each other and holding hands.  
‘We are both very dirty, and the bedding is ruined completely’ announced Theodore guiltily, referring to the remains of his sperm, drying out on their groins and stomachs.  
‘You have much more inside you, and it looks exactly the same as yours’ Matthew reassured him.  
‘Aren’t you just the kindest, sweetest man that I have ever met’ purred Theodore, burying himself in his husband’s soft, comforting body.  
He couldn’t help reaching down with his fingers to where Matthew’s sperm was leaking from his vagina, wanting to see with his own eyes that his husband was telling the truth. He lifted his hand to his eyes and immediately shrieked in horror: on top of the gooey secretion, Theodore’s fingers were red from the blood.  
‘What have you done to me?! I told you that it wasn’t safe!’ Theodore was screaming with indignation, looking at Matthew in betrayal.  
‘Sweetheart, sweetheart, no... I really don’t think that this is what you think it is’ said Matthew solemnly.  
Theodore just froze, his mind completely blank.  
‘How small was your first husband, exactly?’ asked Matthew.

 

Now definitely, rather that relatively happily married, and devirginized at the age of thirty-two, Theodore returned to the Capital after his honeymoon, looking at the streets and buildings in amazement.  
Everything seemed so prettier and brighter than barely a week ago, but nothing seemed to have changed that much. Theodore smiled, realising that the change had happed to him, rather than to the world around him.  
Matthew’s house, though, looked just like Theodore remembered. With the money that his father had given him, though, and Theodore’s determination, nothing was impossible anymore.  
On the first morning after their arrival, when Matthew was already gone to work, rather than relaxing and enjoying himself, like his husband wanted him to, Theodore started following Matthew’s cleaner from room to room, watching her every move.  
Matthew’s house was long overdue a proper spring clean, but Theodore had no intention of doing it himself, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had never as much as washed a teaspoon with his own hands before. No, Theodore was instead going to make sure that Matthew’s cleaner started doing her job properly, because if there was one thing, that Theodore despised more than anything else, it was when people were not fulfilling their responsibilities.  
Two hours later, the poor woman was sobbing hysterically on the kitchen floor.  
‘I am being hard on you, because I know that you can do it better, not because I’m cruel. Now, get a grip on yourself and let’s try again’ Theodore recited the words that he had said a thousand times before, during his career as a teacher.  
The cleaner had no choice but to obey. Theodore knew that the woman was terrified, that she was going to be dismissed by her master’s new, strict and frightening wife, ending up at the women’s camp. Theodore had no intention of doing so, but it was in no one’s best interest to allow the woman to continue with her mediocre performance. What if she had to clean for someone else, not as kind and understanding as Matthew? Theodore knew that he was only doing the woman a favour.  
‘That’s much better, see? You are such a clever lady, there is no reason to doubt yourself so much’ praised Theodore eventually.  
By the end of the day, the cleaner was looking at Theodore with respect and devotion in her eyes, just like his young students had been.

 

Within two weeks, the house was spanking clean, and new carpets and curtains, that Theodore had ordered, were blending nicely with the rest of the decor. The house could not look more different, except for Matthew’s son’s room, which Theodore left exactly as it was. He knew how much his dear husband missed Killian, and his son’s old bedroom seemed to be nothing short of a shrine to Matthew, with Killian’s childhood drawings and University certificates still displayed proudly on the walls, even though Matthew’s son now had his own house and shortly, a family.  
Theodore could not wait to meet this poor, crippled, brave young fertile, who’d grown up motherless and disadvantaged by his background, and whose career and marriage prospects had been thwarted so cruelly by spinal injury.  
Used to the busy lifestyle, initially Theodore struggled greatly to adjust to his life as a housewife. He had decided not to go back to work after remarrying, as no matter how hard he tried, he could not find any satisfaction in teaching a group of feeble-minded girls how to spell their own names for the sixth month in a row, and with very little success, too. No, he was going to be much happier with his lazy mornings over a cup of tea and a book, supervising the cleaner, and waiting for Matthew to come back home after work.  
Sooner rather than later, Theodore was dying of boredom, but once he got the house sorted, there was simply nothing else for him to do. And nothing to eat, for that matter, not counting the bread, cakes and biscuits, that Theodore was getting a bit fed up with, and a beef stew, that his husband had made last evening.  
Not that Theodore did not appreciate Matthew’s cooking – he simply detested it, although he would never admit it to his poor husband. He could not be more desperate for some of the baked salmon, that was his parents’ cook specialty, or roast chicken and potatoes, that were not charred on top, and raw inside. Sadly, as much as he would love to be able to surprise his hard-working husband with a home-made meal, Theodore did not even know how to make scrambled eggs.  
How hard could the cooking be, anyway, considering that even women could do it?  
‘Let’s do the stairs next, and then I’d like you to help me make scrambled eggs for tomorrow’s breakfast’ Theodore told his cleaner one afternoon.  
The woman started to giggle, looking at Theodore as if he had just said a very good joke.  
‘But sir, you don’t fry them now – you do it in the morning! Or else they be all cold and slimy by the time masters want to eat them’ explained the cleaner.  
‘See, you know something that I don’t! How clever!’ retorted Theodore, skilfully using his ignorance to his advantage.  
The cleaner beamed, more than keen to show his master’s wife everything that she knew about cooking, which unfortunately wasn’t that much. With the basics covered, though, and after purchasing several promising-looking cooking books, Theodore eventually had his salmon dinner figured out, and the look in Matthew’s eyes, when Theodore presented him with a neatly prepared dish, was worth every effort. Cooking turned out to be a highly enjoyable activity for someone as perfectionist as Theodore, and before long, him and Matthew were inviting Matthew’s relatives for Theodore’s first dinner party.  
Matthew’s father, brother and brother-in-law were a surprisingly good company, considering that they were all supporters of the New Party. George's wife was particularly friendly, even though a bit too forward and spontaneous for Theodore’s liking.  
‘Don’t be silly; of course that nobody cares about such things anymore!’ exclaimed Matthew’s brother-in-law, when Theodore politely refused his offer of introduction to the local society, explaining that due to his reputation, destroyed by the divorce, he simply could not impose himself on such a respectable company. ‘My close friend is not only divorced himself, but also a single mother, and he’s as welcome in the society as anyone! Except for his former husband, naturally’ finished George's wife lightly.  
By the time summer came, Theodore was no longer painfully skinny, thanks to both his husband’s baking, and his own newly discovered talent for cooking. Through Matthew’s family, he was attempting to build up a new circle of friends, even though very carefully and hesitantly, fearful of being betrayed again. As friendly as Matthew’s society was, Theodore struggled to fit in amongst the lower class, finding their ways odd, at best, if not plain outrageous, at less best times. They were just too liberal and overly tolerant of the New Government’s doings, and while attending a church picnic last week, Theodore ended up starting a heated argument with some doctor form the village, who openly supported the idea of a free education for boys from poorer families. Theodore knew that as charitable as the concept was, it was simply not sustainable on the longer run, and as the Old Party argued, it would only lower the already poor standard of education in the Capital primary schools. The doctor would simply not listen to reason, and in the end Matthew had to drag his extremely agitated wife to the opposite end of the lawn, shoving a glass of cold punch into Theodore’s hand.  
Matthew naturally fully agreed with the idea of free education for boys himself – what a lovely, kind-hearted man Theodore’s husband was.  
Theodore was fortunately meeting some more civilised people, as well, and was even introduced to a headmaster of the local primary school, who seemed to be a proper gentleman, until he suggested that perhaps Theodore should consider applying for another teaching position, recommending, of all places, the Academy. Theodore was tempted to do so, if only to see the looks on his parents’ faces, when he announced the news.  
Overall, Theodore’s life seemed to be getting somewhere, for a change, and every night he prayed that his penance had been fulfilled in God’s eyes already, and that his happy marriage would remain so in the years to come.

 

Barely three months into his second marriage, Theodore felt like him and Matthew had been married for years.  
On a rainy, Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer, Theodore and Matthew were doing what they both liked best – cuddling on the sofa, while telling each other about their busy week.  
‘I still think that it would be wise to dismiss that new apprentice of yours, Matthew’ Theodore was nagging. ‘To waste a whole batch of dough, worth more than this boy’s weekly wages, due to simple carelessness!’  
‘My dear, gorgeous little wife’ Matthew began in his well-rehearsed, calming tone, that his wife required so often. ‘I could not be any happier with the way that you run our home, or myself, for that matter; I have even had a haircut, and I now polish my shoes every day. I am not, however, ready to surrender the bakery to you just yet.’  
Theodore really thought that he ought to feel angry and offended by his husband’s comment, but instead he heard himself chuckling.  
‘I am simply trying to establish a dictatorship here – what’s wrong with that?’ he said, tickling his husband on the ribs.  
That was again the miraculous influence, that Matthew always seemed to have on his wife.  
Theodore knew that some people would perhaps consider him a little argumentative at times, but when it came to Matthew, all that his husband had to do to suppress his anger was to take him by the hand, and Theodore would be as meek as a kitten. No one ever touched Theodore much before, not even his parents, when he was little, but Matthew was very good at making up for all those cold, lonely years with his fondness for physical closeness, that Theodore so enjoyed. When with Matthew, Theodore was simply a different person, which led to some very embarrassing situations sometimes.  
Only last week, hearing the lock of the front door turning, Theodore had run from the kitchen with a shriek of excitement, overjoyed that his husband returned early from work. He had his arms around Matthew, kissing him on the lips, before realising that Matthew’s bakery manager was waiting outside, watching the whole scene through the open front door. The man’s face was quite a picture, when seeing his employer’s dignified, upper-class wife behave like an infatuated teenager.  
Theodore was only glad that the walls of their house were so thick, and the window of their bedroom overlooked the back yard, rather than the street; otherwise the local community would be even more shocked by another one of Theodore’s faces.  
Theodore’s third face was of a profligate, disinhibited harlot, and his husband was not even trying to pretend that he did not like that one best.  
‘What do you mean: same bed... My first husband and I always slept in separate bedrooms, and so did my parents’ Theodore had complained on their first night together at his new home.  
‘And we won’t’ answered his husband confidently.  
Several nights later, Theodore had attempted to reason with his husband again.  
‘You can’t just sleep here all the time... You know what I’m like, I will just keep wanting more’ argued Theodore, after discovering that his persistent arousal had no desire to disappear, now that Theodore’s intimate life involved another person.  
‘Mm-hmm’ replied Matthew, pulling his bottoms down and kissing his wife.  
Every night, Theodore’s compliance seemed to increase a little bit more, and while his mouth said one thing, his body did another.  
‘We can’t do that, that’s undignified!’ Theodore had protested one time, while he had still been able to gather his thoughts enough to form sentences.  
In the meantime, his husband was positioning himself on the bed between Theodore’s widely spread knees, while Theodore himself was on all fours, his head almost touching the pillow, and his bottom high up in the air.  
‘Gorgeous little wife’ muttered Matthew contently, running his hands along Theodore’s thin, narrow back and his ribs, still clearly visible under the skin, before grabbing his wife firmly by his bony hips and introducing him to the concept of penetration from behind.  
It was all his husband’s fault, that Theodore’s libido was now completely out of control. He no longer even blushed, when, sitting on his husband’s tights, he was riding him like a horse, moving his hips obscenely and with his erected penis in full sight, and Matthew’s one deep inside him; or when Matthew was holding Theodore’s legs over his arms, able to see his wife’s whole body, while making him forget, that anyone was watching.  
His poor husband had soon began to struggle to keep up with Theodore’s sexual demands, and recently started to resort to alternative ways, to satisfy his wanton wife.  
‘I just wanted to be closer to my favourite thing’ explained Matthew this very morning, when, after waking up to find his wife aroused again, he took Theodore’s penis into his mouth. It had never been a secret how much he adored his wife’s “little cock”.  
As of now, Theodore no longer felt the need to oppose anything, when it came to their sexual intercourses. Thank heavens for the thick walls and a window overlooking the back yard, and for having the house to themselves, he thought, willing to admit that what his husband had done to him this morning, could just become his favourite thing, as well.  
With their trip to the South coming in two months, Theodore was enjoying every minute of their time together on their own, whether it was in their bedroom upstairs, or on the sofa, cuddling and chatting, just like they were doing it now.  
The sudden, urgent-sounding knocking on their front door interrupted their idyllic Sunday afternoon.  
‘I’ll get it’ called Theodore, jumping to his feet before his chubby husband even had a chance to move.  
The loud knocking wasn’t stopping, and Theodore was rather irritated, when by the time he straightened his clothes and combed his hair, he opened the front door.  
Two identical, huge, hairy wild men, covered in tattoos and soaked in the rain, were looking at Theodore in confusion.  
Theodore shrieked fearfully and shut the door in their faces.  
‘Criminals!’ he was shouting in terror, when alarmed Matthew rushed to the front door. ‘They have tattoos!’  
Matthew told his wife to move to stand safely behind him, and opened the front door again, where the two, now angry-looking, criminals were still standing.  
‘They are no criminals, sweetheart. They are my sons-in-law’ whispered Matthew, before leaning on the wall heavily and sliding down to the floor.

 

Matthew had not heard from Killian in four months, remembered Theodore, dreading to think what news could the two uncivilised Southerners be possibly bringing in person, considering that their wife was not with them.  
The two large, muscular men carried Theodore’s unconscious husband with ease back to the sofa, staining Theodore’s new carpet with their muddy boots, while Theodore himself rushed to get Matthew a glass of water and some smelling salts. Matthew came round shortly, and immediately reached for his wife, his eyes already filling with tears.  
‘No worry’ said a deep, melodic voice with a Southern accent over their heads. ‘Killian well, babies well, we come take you home.’  
Matthew started sobbing hysterically, while laughing and hugging his wife at the same time.  
‘Did I just hear you say that Killian had more than one baby?’ asked Theodore sharply, and both Southerners nodded in approval.  
‘Twins’ they confirmed proudly.  
Matthew laughed out loud, clapping on his knees with both hands. He kissed Theodore on the cheek quickly, before getting up to shake hands with his intimidating sons-in-law. Killian’s husbands smiled and accepted Matthew’s congratulations, but Theodore couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t right.  
‘How come you are both here, considering that your wife has just given birth?’ he questioned Killian’s husbands.  
Matthew looked at his wife in confusion, then at the Southerners, then at his wife again, his mouth slightly opened.  
‘Killian say bring dad, I want dad, so we bring dad’ explained Killian’s husbands in their limited vocabulary. ‘We leave tomorrow’ they added firmly.  
While Matthew was still trying to comprehend the news of having not one, but two baby grandsons, Theodore was already planning the packing in his head, mentally going through the shelves of their wardrobe and reminding himself to pick up Matthew’s new winter coat from the tailor’s tomorrow, deciding what to do with the abundance of food in their pantry, and trying to remember Matthew’s bakery manager’s address, wondering whether it was appropriate to knock on his door on a Sunday afternoon. Leave tomorrow – what a good joke. They were going to need at least two days.  
Fortunately, Theodore had everything ready for weeks now.

 

Two days later, both Southerners were now dry, rested, clean, well-fed and still in the Capital, and glaring towards Theodore with deep mistrust in their eyes.  
‘Not long travel, only ten days’ one of the men said reassuringly.  
‘I am strong and healthy, Radyr’ replied Theodore with indignation, lifting his chin to appear taller and more impressive.  
Both Southerners were now looking at Theodore strangely, as if surprised that he had not only remembered their exotic names, but also pronounced one of them correctly, and identified the right twin for it. Of course Theodore had – what were the two identical twins, compared to a classroom full of teenage boys?  
Rather than travel in a carriage, Theodore had convinced his husband to go horseback, as it was simply more practical to have most of their luggage delivered with the convoy in two months, as originally planned, and save themselves at least two days on their journey. Besides, Theodore did not trust Rhyl and Radyr one bit, when they ensured Matthew that Killian and the babies were perfectly fine. The sooner they arrived in the Southern shire, the better, as far as Theodore was concerned.  
Rhyl and Radyr would not hear of them going horseback, virtually forcing Theodore into the carriage in the middle of a very heated and vocal argument between the two giant Southerners, and Matthew’s short and skinny wife. Theodore believed that he would have won, if only Matthew did not get involved, and now Theodore was sitting in a carriage, holding his husband’s hand, wanting to feel betrayed and angry, while in fact rather enjoying how him and Matthew were still able to hug and kiss, hidden from view for another ten days.

 

Seven days into their journey, after they were no longer able to find inns for the night, finally an opportunity arose for Theodore to cross-question Rhyl and Radyr.  
With Matthew fast asleep, Theodore slipped out of his arms carefully, joining the twins, who were still awake and sitting by the fire.  
‘Babies born early, Killian unhappy’ was revealed in a strong Southern accent, after a short and effective interrogation.  
‘Don’t you dare worrying Matthew even more’ Theodore warned Rhyl and Radyr. ‘I’ll handle it.’  
The twins were just sitting there with their heads held low, looking like two miserable little boys, despite their age and size.  
‘Everything is going to be fine’ said Theodore reassuringly, patting them on their large, tattooed hands.  
Theodore felt very sorry for Rhyl and Radyr, but not at all for Killian. He simply could not find any sympathy for someone, who, after barely two years of marriage, had been blessed with not just one, but two babies, and still dared to consider himself unhappy.

 

Rather than going straight home, Rhyl and Radyr took Theodore and Matthew to their friend’s house, where Killian was staying in his husbands’ absence. Theodore looked at the little town, through which they were driving, wondering how on Earth could anyone live like that – everything seemed so simple and small, and people on the streets were virtually dressed in rags.  
The house in front of which they stopped seemed to be rather impressive, though, Theodore had to admit.  
Even though pale and with dark circles around his eyes from the lack of sleep, walking with a crutch and still fat from the pregnancy, Matthew’s son was considerably dashingly handsome, and to Theodore’s dismay, almost as tall as his insufferable husbands.  
‘Oh, my son, my son!’ called Matthew in awe, bursting into tears, having to stand on tiptoes to kiss Killian on both cheeks.  
Theodore’s husband was so absorbed in admiring his baby grandsons, sleeping soundly in some old people’s arms, that he seemed to had forgotten entirely that he even had a wife. Theodore was just standing in the middle of the drive, surrounded by people, who seemed to know exactly what to do with themselves, while Theodore didn’t.  
‘Please allow us to take your bags’ a fertile even more considerably handsome than Matthew’s son was saying in native Main, ordering his servants to help Theodore’s husband with their luggage. ‘You must be very tired after the journey’ he told Theodore coldly, inviting him inside his house, while casting resentful, critical looks at Theodore’s clothes, covered in dust.  
Theodore wiped his shoes on the doormat with extra care, determined to also wipe that self-righteous expression off the fertile’s face at the nearest opportunity. So that was the goldsmith’s nephew, that the whole Capital had been gossiping about several years ago, sold to some Southern aristocrat for a record-high price. Leader’s wife or not, Jay was still much younger than him, and living in some God-forgotten, miserable place miles away from civilisation. Oh, how Theodore detested people who thought themselves better than everyone else around them!  
‘I told you to marry someone older, dad! Theo only looks about twelve!’ commented Killian, sitting opposite Theodore, ridiculing his petite stature in front of everyone present in the dining room.  
Both Jay and Matthew chuckled and Theodore blushed crimson, shooting daggers at Killian’s husbands, who were roaring with laughter, leaning back in their chairs.  
‘There was no helping it, son’ announced Matthew solemnly. ‘One look at this beauty, and my heart was all his’ he said fondly, taking Theodore’s hand on table and kissing him on the cheek.  
‘People are watching, Matthew!’ protested Theodore stiffly, but he could not help blushing even more and smiling brilliantly, looking at his lovely husband.  
‘I apologise about the quality of the bread. We have lost our town baker, and this is the best that me and Caleb have managed to come up with’ said Jay from the top of the table, pointing at the bread basket, where some perfectly fine slices were kept.  
‘Dad will make us bread now, won’t you, dad?’ Killian chipped in.  
‘I’ll be my pleasure’ answered Matthew, and Theodore began feeling rather jealous of how his husband seemed happy to oblige his son’s most ridiculous request, without even consulting his wife first.  
All the rest of the food was also superb, Theodore noticed wit resentment, although his own potato salad was definitely nicer than the one served at Jay’s dinner table.  
After the meal, when they were all sat in the drawing room, a young, black-haired boy sneaked inside.  
‘Mommy, I’ve hurt myself!’ the child was whining, showing Jay a miniscule scratch on his plump hand.  
‘Come here’ called Jay softly, sitting his son on his lap and kissing him lovingly. ‘Show mommy...’  
‘He only wants attention, you know’ commented Theodore in his teacher’s tone.  
‘We have plenty of that in this house for everyone, big or small’ retorted Jay, looking very different to his previous superior self, while cuddling and kissing the boy, who was now looking straight at Theodore with his large, black eyes.  
‘Aren’t you concerned that he is going to grow up to be spoiled and egoistic?’ continued Theodore confidently.  
He’d met many parents like Jay before, worshipping their sons and unable to see any fault in them, no matter how bad their behaviour.  
‘You’ve heard Theo, Jay. Spoiled little brat, this one, unlike my own progeny’ said Killian, evoking more laughter in the room.  
‘It’s Theodore’ Theodore pointed out, but no one seemed to take any notice.  
As if able to hear Killian’s words, one of his babies started crying loudly in the nursery on the first floor, and both Killian and Jay raised from their seats immediately.  
Theodore sneaked upstairs himself after a while, remembering about the sweets and presents that him and Matthew had brought for all four of the children in the house.  
‘Am I really spoiling him that much, Killian?’ Theodore overheard Jay’s voice, sounding very young and vulnerable, from the bedroom opposite the one where him and Matthew were going to sleep.  
‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous...’ answered Killian angrily. ‘You are the best mother in the world. Why would you listen to someone who doesn’t even have his own kids?’  
Theodore shut the door behind himself, careful not to make any noise and alert Jay and Killian of his presence. He opened his trunk and took out the little crocheted socks, blouses and jumpers, that he had made himself for Killian’s baby, long before he found out that they were twins. How fortunate that he had made so many, then. He fumbled with the tiny clothes in his trembling fingers, feeling his cheeks burn and eyes prickle.

 

The following morning, young Hugo was fully absorbed in playing with his new pewter soldiers, and Jay’s and Killian’s babies were all wearing crocheted outfits made by Theodore.  
‘Thank you so much Theo, they are absolutely lovely’ said Killian, hugging him.  
Just like his father, Killian also seemed fond of physical contact, realised Theodore in surprise, quite unsure where it fitted with his personal boundaries.  
‘I am your granddad, you little bundle of joy’ called Matthew happily, holding one of the babies in his arms. ‘Oh, Killian, they are perfect! What are you going to call them?’  
‘Reginald and Rupert’ answered both Killian and Jay in unison, without missing a beat.  
‘What beautiful names!’ exclaimed Theodore in earnest, not quite understanding why everyone’s lips seemed to quiver.  
‘Do you want to hold him?’ asked Jay, materialising himself at Theodore’s side with his son in his arms.  
Robin looked much less fragile than Killian’s twins, and after some consideration, Theodore decided to give it a try. To his great embarrassment, he had never held a baby before, and struggled to hide his nervousness.  
Jay’s son wriggled uncomfortably in Theodore’s stiff grip, and immediately began to cry.  
‘It’s okay, it’s okay, mommy is here...’ Jay was comforting the baby, now safely back in his arms.  
Theodore lowered his gaze to the ground in complete defeat, feeling utterly crestfallen and exposed. Little Robin had been smiling all morning, whether held by his mother, the servants, Killian’s husbands or anyone else, but the moment Theodore as much a touched him, the baby realised immediately that he had no right to do so. Theodore squeezed his husband’s hand strongly, when Matthew rushed to comfort his wife. This time, even Matthew’s touch was not going to make Theodore feel any better.

 

After two weeks in the Southern shire, Theodore was so desperate to return to the Capital, that he would even consider an offer of moving back into his parents’ house.  
Unfortunately, Matthew seemed to be in no rush to go back, not after meeting his beloved grandsons, that he dotted on as much as he did on Killian.  
‘Are your husbands helping you enough, son? You must not strain your back, and with two babies, that’s easily done’ Matthew was nagging one morning, as they were all relaxing in Killian’s garden, enjoying the sunny weather.  
‘No, daddy, they are not helping at all’ confessed Killian tearfully, clearly poking fun at his poor father.  
Jay laughed out loud at Killian’s reply.  
‘They are doing everything for him, mister Baker, I promise. Killian hardly even lifts his finger.’  
Theodore had no trouble believing that. Once they had moved to Killian’s remote, horribly small and basic, although rather well maintained, farmhouse, he had not seen him doing a single piece of housework, while his husbands were running in circles, making sure that everyone was comfortable.  
‘They are crap at breastfeeding, though, so I’m having to do it all’ announced Killian in pretended disappointment, looking at the babies in his arms, who he had just finished feeding both at the same time.  
A loud sound erupted from one of the diapers, making everyone chuckle.  
‘Rhyl!’ called Killian loudly, and both Jay and Theodore looked at him in exasperation. ‘You don’t seriously think that I’m going to change him myself, do you?’ asked Killian rhetorically, confronted with their judging gazes.  
‘Granddad, look! Kitty!’ Hugo called, clutching a resigned-looking animal to his chest and demanding Matthew’s attention.  
‘Oh, darling, mister Baker is not you granddad; mommy told you that many times...’ Jay explained to Hugo again, while casting apologetic looks at Matthew and Theodore.  
‘That’s quite all right... He looks just like Killian, when he was that age’ Matthew announced to Hugo’s delight.  
‘I only ever want you care about me and no one else, and I am feeling extremely jealous, especially when it comes to your son’ Theodore blurted out that evening, when him and Matthew were finally alone and hidden from all the people who were trying to steal Theodore’s husband from him.  
They were submerged in water, just like during their honeymoon; the time that Theodore missed more desperately with every passing, miserable day in the South. As crude and undersized as Killian’s excuse for a thermal bath was, at least it offered some privacy, which could not be said about the farmhouse’s guestroom - not with its thin door and creaky bed and floor.  
Rather than answering, Matthew just covered Theodore’s mouth with his, and just in time – with Theodore’s own hands gripping firmly onto the edges of the pool, one of Matthew’s ones around Theodore’s penis, and another on the wall for support , that was the only way to stop Theodore from screaming loudly, as his body was finally getting what it needed so much.  
‘I didn’t actually mean it, naturally’ said Theodore in deep embarrassment several minutes later.  
‘You are my gorgeous, little wife and I love you more than I do myself’ Matthew said. ‘Let’s not stay for the winter and go back home even tomorrow, if that’s what you want.’  
As tempted as Theodore was to agree, he never would, because he also loved Matthew more, than he loved himself, and he could see how happy his husband was, surrounded by his family.

 

With Matthew now running the local bakery, while Jay still kept looking for someone to take up the post permanently, and Rhyl and Radyr doing all the cleaning, cooking and looking after the babies, Theodore found himself being a spare, that no one needed. Killian and Jay insisted that Theodore spent all his time with them and the children, although Theodore knew that neither of them liked him, and that they all could not wait to see his carriage drive off back to the Capital, while keeping his Matthew to themselves.  
Theodore disliked Jay and Killian even more than they detested him, although he would still pretend in front of his husband, that he was looking forward to another afternoon spent with the two fertiles and their whiny babies, listening to the talks about teething, colic and diaper rashes, and naturally having nothing to say on the subject himself, while being introduced to more barbaric-looking, poverty stricken, gibberish-speaking coloured locals, that Jay and Killian were calling friends.  
Jay was everything that Theodore ever wished of being himself – handsome and tall, married to a man of a high position and respected and adored by everyone in the Southern shire, on top of having two perfect sons – black-haired Hugo, who was perhaps mischievous and unruly, but still every mother’s dream, and little Robin with his blond lock of hair on top of his head, constant smile on his face and lovely, happy nature, at whom Theodore could not even stand to look at, without feeling as if his heart was going to explode with envy and pain. Despite having two children and working at the Town Hall three mornings a week, Jay always seemed to have time to invite them to his house for lunch, or to visit Killian and help with the twins, giving Rhyl and Radyr a break. He was always very kind to Theodore, no matter how many nasty remarks Theodore made about Hugo’s behaviour, and how patronising he was towards a fertile, who was ten years younger than him, and yet had every reason to look down at unattractive, childless, unemployed and disgraced Theodore.  
Killian had turned out to be the opposite of how Theodore had pictured him in his head, of course: rather than a younger version of Matthew, and sad, yet brave in his suffering, Killian was one of those arrogant, self-absorbed modern fertiles, that Theodore’s parents had never allowed him to mix with back at the Academy. Theodore appreciated that it was difficult to look after the twins, while walking with a crutch and struggling to carry even one of his babies at the time, but that was hardly an excuse for openly expecting his husbands and father to be doing everything for him. Killian loved his babies, naturally, and perhaps Theodore had to admit that he wasn’t failing entirely at being a mother, but Theodore simply could not forgive Killian for being so selfish and rejecting his sons initially, something that he still hadn’t told Matthew about, as it would break his poor husband’s heart. Then, there was the subject of Killian’s unnatural marriage to two men at once, not to mention the fact that they were all sharing one bedroom. As prone as Theodore was to making snappy remarks on any given subject, in regards to Killian’s marriage, he was finding himself strangely tongue-tied, as some very irritating, persistent little voice at the back of his head kept saying that perhaps a remarried divorcee with a very raging libido and a shockingly diverse intimate life, had no right to judge anyone. Killian seemed immune to the rest, spoken out loud, of Theodore’s criticism, and somehow always managed to turn his sarcastic comments into a joke, making Theodore look utterly ridiculous in everyone’s eyes. As much as Killian disliked Theodore, he was always keen to point out to anyone, who was willing to listen, that he had never seen his father so happy before, and that he could not more approve Matthew’s choice of a wife (even though Killian did not really mean it, as Theodore was well aware of).  
To Theodore’s eyes, it looked like Killian had recovered sufficiently enough from the shock of childbirth, although he still complained loudly about sleepless nights and a disaster, that his life had turned into.  
‘My two little frogs’ he was saying affectionately, leaning over the cot, where his babies were sleeping soundly. ‘How could I ever hate you so much... Even though I am going to be stuck at home for the rest of my life, rather than travel the world and have fun, you life-sucking monsters.’  
‘Stop moaning and take a leaf from your own book, Killian’ Jay told him firmly. ‘Gender equality this, gender equality that, but when it comes to your own life, you still think like your grandfather. No offence, but your husbands are much more capable of looking after their children in your absence, than the other way around. Give it a few years, and there is no reason why you would not be able to start doing convoys again.’  
Theodore was in shock – and to think that he almost started to like Jay, even though the insufferable Leader’s wife was constantly trying to shove more babies into his arms. To suggest that Killian abandoned his family just for his personal gain – Theodore had never heard anything more outrageous.  
‘Hmmm’ grunted Killian, looking at his babies a little bit less resentfully.

 

One night, Theodore woke up to the sound of Killian’s babies crying again, but after several minutes, he realised that their parents must have left them in their bedroom by themselves this time, as normally he would have heard Rhyl’s or Radyr’s deep voices already, talking softly to their sons.  
He woke Matthew up, and putting their bathrobes on hurriedly, they entered the bedroom next to their own, finding an empty four-poster bed, and two little boys, crying in their cradle.  
‘I’ll go and look for them’ Theodore said quickly, desperate to avoid having to come anywhere near the babies.  
Killian and his husbands were not downstairs, but once Theodore stepped outside and walked to the side of the house, he knew exactly where they were and what they were doing, as none of the three of them bothered to cover their mouths, like him and Matthew had, when taking a bath together.  
‘They are otherwise occupied’ Theodore told his husband and lifted his brows suggestively, after he returned upstairs.  
‘He is never going to grow up, is he...’ said Matthew resignedly about his son, with one of the babies crying in his arms, and another doing the same in the cradle. ’It’s all right, granddad is here, while your parents are acting rather silly...’ he was talking to the babies in a calming tone.  
Theodore approached the cradle, where one of Killian’s babies was scrunching his lovely little face in grimace, his tiny mouth open, showing soft, pink, toothless gums, and holding his miniscule fists in the air in an angry protest at being abandoned so ruthlessly.  
‘They don’t like to be separated’ said Matthew, sitting on the bed and asking his wife to sit next to him. ‘Hold this one, and I will get another...’  
Theodore froze instantly, half of the mind to run away, feeling betrayed by his husband, who knew very well how uncomfortable his request would make his wife feel.  
‘Support his head... just like that... that’s it, very good’ praised Matthew.  
Before Theodore knew it, Killian’s precious, perfect baby was in his arms. Theodore rocked him for a bit, experimentally, and then started to sing to him quietly. The little boy soon stopped crying and was now looking at him with his large, blue eyes, that had already begun to darken, to perhaps turn black completely one day. Theodore kissed him on the covered in soft, dark fuzz head, smelling that heavenly smell, that Jay’s nursery was always full of. He grabbed the baby a bit firmer, making him more comfortable, and the little mouth opened in an adorable yawn, and blue eyes looked at Theodore for a bit longer, before closing slowly. They opened again, once Theodore stopped singing and rocking the baby in his arms, and he quickly resumed with both, caressing this little miracle a bit more, because they both seemed to like it very much.  
Only then did he notice that Matthew had been sitting by his side for quite a while now, and that the baby that he was holding was now also asleep.  
‘They weren’t hungry or wet, just a bit lonely’ he whispered to his wife. ’We can try putting them back now.’  
‘Not yet’ protested Theodore, still rocking the now fast asleep baby, that he would keep in his arms forever, if he only could.  
Long after him and Matthew had returned to their bed, and Killian, Rhyl and Radyr had sneaked back upstairs, Theodore was still crying desperately in his husband’s arms – not just a few bitter tears, like on their honeymoon, but a torrent of pain so great, that there seemed to be no end to it.

 

After his nervous breakdown, Theodore refused to leave his and Matthew’s bedroom for the whole day, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling blankly, while his husband was doing what he could to make him feel better.  
‘You are being very sweet, Matthew, but please just leave me to myself’ he was begging his very concerned husband.’ I shall feel better tomorrow, I promise.’  
Theodore could hear Killian and his husbands through the open window, talking in the garden. He could hear the babies’ crying and Killian’s witty remarks at his sons’ constant hunger. He could feel the herbal aroma, coming from the workshop, where the Southerners were making their medicines, and the smell of roses blooming in the flowerbeds alongside the farmhouse walls. He knew how lucky he was, being married to the most wonderful man on Earth, surrounded by people, who made such effort to welcome him into the family, and even to be alive on such lovely summer day. It was enough to be happy, was it not?  
‘Theo well?’ asked one of the Southern voices right underneath Theodore’s window.  
‘I’ve been thinking....’ Theodore heard his husband’s nervous voice. ‘Killian told me that you help fertiles in the shire to get pregnant. My wife cannot have children, you see, but perhaps there is something that we could do to at least try...’  
Theodore turned with his back to the open window, covering his ears with his hands, but he could still hear them talking.  
‘Theo pregnant’ replied one of Killian’s husbands.  
‘Yes, precisely, that’s exactly what I mean’ confirmed Matthew. ‘If there is anything that you can think of, a potion perhaps, that would help my wife conceive, that would mean more than...’  
‘Theo pregnant’ interrupted the other low voice with a Southern accent.  
‘Yes, yes, and although it doesn’t matter to me at all, whether we have children or not, I know that my wife...’  
‘Pregnant, Theo pregnant’ said both Rhyl and Radyr at the same time, sounding exasperated.  
‘Yes, yes, pregnant, and I would never forgive myself, if I haven’t at least asked...’ Matthew kept nattering, and if he did not shut up, Theodore was going to stick his head out of the window and tell him to do that himself.  
‘Theo pregnant now!’ the Southerners were now almost shouting, clearly as frustrated with Matthew as Theodore.  
‘Well, it doesn’t have to be now; any time in future would do, really...’  
‘Killian!!!’ roared both Rhyl and Radyr desperately.  
‘What?!’ answered Matthew’s son, and Theodore could hear his slightly limping steps on the ground, accompanied by the occasional sound made by his crutch.  
‘Theo pregnant!’ said Killian’s husbands.  
‘Congratulations, dad, that’s wonderful news! Is that why he’s so pissed off with you?’ Killian was saying excitedly.  
‘No, son, no, no, we are having some language difficulties here; all that I’m trying to say...’  
‘Pregnant, Theo pregnant, now, for fuck’s sake!’ before Matthew had a chance to finish his sentence, Rhyl and Radyr interrupted with their perfectly pronounced use of swearwords.  
‘Killian, talk to your husbands, please, before I do!’ said Matthew on top of his voice, sounding very angry.  
‘Sorry, dad, they really suck at grammar, big time...’ apologised Killian, before starting to speak to his husbands in the local language, sounding harsh and unnatural to Theodore’s ears.  
After quick conversation, Killian spoke to his father in Main again.  
‘Dad, they are saying what they are saying! Theo is pregnant already, no need for fancy medicines!’  
The Southerners said something more in their odd language, and Killian burst out laughing.  
‘They are saying that this is the only reason why they haven’t strangled Theo already...’ he translated for his father, and now everyone was laughing, cheering and celebrating, and Theodore hated each of them with his whole heart; even Matthew.  
‘I am not pregnant’ he told his husband the moment he heard him enter the room. ‘Leave me alone.’  
‘I will never leave you, no matter what, especially not now’ said Matthew calmly, getting on the bed next to Theodore and putting his arms around him.  
Matthew wasn’t trying to talk to him or do anything to convince him that what Rhyl and Radyr had said was true, he wasn’t even showing happiness anymore; he was just there, with Theodore. That was the only reason why Theodore did not hit him or shout at him, or tried to scratch his eyes out. They were simply cuddling on the bed, and Theodore was not pregnant, as usual.  
He had not had his period since he married Matthew, but long breaks like that had happened before, especially in a stressful year after his divorce. No fertile ever got pregnant straight on their honeymoon, everyone knew that, and especially not the one who could not have children.  
‘I want to go home’ said Theodore.

 

Jay’s husband returned with one of the Eastern convoys, and everyone was planning the christening of Robin, Reginald and Rupert, that was going to take place on the same day, followed by a celebration at Jay’s house.  
‘We have decided to go with their pompous names, since everyone got so used to them already’ Killian was explaining to James one afternoon shortly after his arrival, when Jay’s family came to visit.  
James would have been a perfect gentleman – tall and handsome, dignified and with impeccable manners, and radiating that confidence and authority, that only a Leader could have – if only he weren’t wrapped around his wife’s little finger so tightly.  
‘Such a mess...’ James was complaining, referring to his duties at the Town Hall. ‘We still haven’t decided on the education budget, the farmers are opposing the plans for the new road, and to top it all, now the town has no baker...’  
‘Darling, the farmers have managed to come to an agreement, once all of their husbands left with convoys, and I have already called the meeting on the budget, just like we decided, before you left’ interrupted Jay gently, in the meantime trying to feed his younger son soup, while supervising Hugo, who seemed more interested in playing with his dinner, than eating it.  
Rather than answer, James was just looking at his wife with an expression of a man, who was immensely happy to be back home.  
‘Finish your soup, please’ Jay said to Hugo, but to everyone’s amusement, also James reached for his spoon obediently.  
‘Your shire provides free schooling, then? How interesting’ commented Theodore politely, after hearing the rest of Jay’s and James’s conversation.  
‘We certainly do’ confirmed James. ‘Personally, I find the idea of financially restricted access to education rather barbaric.’  
Theodore exchanged looks with his husband and they both smiled.  
Three weeks after their argument, Theodore’s and Matthew’s marriage was as happy as before. They no longer talked about Rhyl and Radyr’s outrageous ideas, and everyone knew better than to mention anything about the so-called pregnancy in front of Theodore.  
‘And we do have a baker!’ exclaimed Jay, just remembering. ‘Mister Baker, Killian’s dad, has kindly agreed to take over the business for the time being, as his... as we all love him and his wife so much, that we’ve convinced them to stay with us until Spring after all!’ Jay finished, only just avoiding upsetting Theodore again, and causing more furious screaming and shouting.  
That was one little compromise, that Theodore was forced to make. His kind, gentle husband would turn into an iron-willed tyrant, whenever Theodore as much as mentioned a ten day return journey on a dangerous, bumpy Southern road. Now looking at being stuck in the Southern shire for almost a year “just in case”, at least Theodore was going to move with his husband to the late baker’s house, as soon as the cleaning and painting were done.  
‘Perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm to let Killian’s husbands have a look at you, sweetheart, just in case...’ Matthew had said a day after his ridiculous conversation with Rhyl and Radyr.  
‘Have they told you what your baby is going to look like?’ Theodore had interrupted him acrimoniously. ‘Since they can apparently see inside my body with naked eye? Or are you trying to tell me that you doubt their magical powers after all?’  
‘They did see that I had stomach ulcers, though...’ Matthew had muttered very quietly, so that his wife could have pretended that he had not heard him.  
Since Matthew had learned to keep his mouth shut, and Theodore had learned not to turn his husband into an iron-willed tyrant, they were both pretending that staying with Killian until the first Capital convoy next spring was just something, that they both fancied doing.

 

A month later, Theodore’s period was still not coming back, and he began to wonder whether he was perhaps going through the change already, despite only being thirty-two.  
His body was acting strangely, confusing him all the time – every day he would wake up to his nipples sore and swollen, and a feeling of extreme hunger, only to lose his appetite immediately after smelling anything edible. Fortunately, though, he did not seem to be losing any weight, and if anything, his trousers were even becoming a bit too tight around the waist, and he was feeling as well and full of energy, as ever.  
On top of his sore nipples, his body was doing other unusual things. Theodore’s vagina, previously behaving itself rather well, was now constantly moist and extremely sensitive, and poor Theodore was running to the toilet all the time, convinced that the wetness between his tights had to be the long overdue period, only to be disappointed again at the sight of his clean underwear. His penis, though, was no longer demanding frequent attention, something that Theodore found rather comforting, as he was now feeling so much more in control, when it came to his arousal.  
Matthew was also not complaining at all – their sexual intercourses were now becoming a new thing entirely, with Theodore not enjoying having his penis stimulated as much as before, but instead surprising himself and Matthew with learning how to achieve extremely satisfying, long and intense orgasms through vaginal penetration, without as much as getting a full erection, not to mention ejaculating. If that’s how the change, that every middle-aged fertile dreaded so much, was going to affect Theodore’s body, then there was nothing to worry about, he thought contentedly, remembering how much Matthew had made him scream last night, when taking him in slow, gentle thrusts, careful not to put too much pressure on Theodore’ abdomen with his sizeable belly. Theodore had told him to stop being ridiculous, and pulled him in close, feeling safe and loved, weighted down by Matthew’s soft, bouncy, bread-smelling body.  
Him and Matthew were now living in their own house, that Jay’s servants and their sons-in-law had decorated so nicely for them. It was nowhere near as comfortable as their home back in Matthew’s village, but it was still bigger than Killian’s house. They had four bedrooms and a nice garden, and the best thing of all – despite being in town, their house was hidden behind the bakery, offering soundproofing and privacy, that Theodore had been so desperate for.  
There was a little box room, next to their bedroom, that perhaps had been used as a nursery in the past, but which Jay turned into a comfortable reading corner for Theodore. Jay also managed to get a piano somewhere, which was his and James’s welcoming gift for Matthew and Theodore, and Theodore was now almost ready to forgive Jay for being so annoyingly perfect at everything.  
With Matthew being busy at the bakery, and no women in the whole of Shire to hire as housekeepers, Theodore was now learning how to make their temporary home clean and tidy, and their neglected, overgrown garden restored to its former glory, and finally, oh finally, he had something to keep him busy and make him feel needed. Their new house was halfway through between where Killian and Jay lived, and there was plenty of room for all the children to play and nap. Doing his own food shopping and learning the local language turned out to be as exciting, as being able to organise dinner parties again, and giving in to Jay’s nagging, he even started to entertain his guests with his singing and piano music. Young Hugo, usually unable to stay still even for a minute, would stand by the piano, mesmerised, for the length of several songs, before his scary uncle would eventually give in, and sitting Hugo on his lap, let him press the keys himself.  
The best thing of all, his dearest Matthew, always looking a bit worried and overworked back in the Capital, was now sleeping soundly through the night and waking up with a big smile every morning. When he had received a letter from his manager, asking whether Matthew would consider selling his large, busy bakery to him, or at least leasing it out, Theodore’s husband had left the letter in plain sight for several days, although he did not seem to have the courage yet to press the matter to his still very nervous, and prone to angry outbursts wife.

 

Feeling starving again, and with the top button of his trousers undone to accommodate the large lunch, that he had just consumed, Theodore was watching Jay and Killian lie their sleeping babies on a thick blanket in his garden. It was the middle of Autumn, but the day was sunny and the children were dressed warmly in jumpers that Theodore had made for them. The Southern people loved to keep their children outdoors for as long as possible every day, believing it to be beneficial, while Theodore believed it rather controversial.  
Little Reggie and Rupert had changed so much recently, and they were now almost as adorable as Jay’s Robin in Theodore’s eyes, especially the dark-eyed Rupert, who still liked to fall asleep in Theodore’s arms, while listening to his singing.  
‘Of course that Robin is going to have three godparents – you can’t possibly imagine me asking only one of your husbands to be a godfather, Killian?’ Jay was saying quietly, trying not to wake up the babies. ‘No, it will have to be all three of you. Funnily enough, Rhyl and Radyr are also Hugo’s godparents, as they had to christen him at birth, when they still did not know whether he was going to make it...’  
‘Did you have a difficult labour?’ asked Theodore in concern.  
After Jay explained, Theodore was looking at him in shock.  
‘Hugo isn’t yours, then?’ he blurted out.  
‘Of course that he is mine; he just has another mommy in heaven’ answered Jay quickly, and only then did Theodore notice that young Hugo was playing close by, able to hear the whole conversation.  
Theodore blushed in embarrassment, feeling rather guilty.  
‘How lucky you are to be Hugo’s mommy, then’ he said, desperately trying to redeem himself in the child’s eyes.  
‘So, with you and James being Reggie’s godparents, and dad and Theo Rupert’s, this whole christening is going to look like a game of musical chairs, with people swapping places and babies’ Killian groaned loudly, making baby Rupert stir in his sleep a little.  
‘What...? No, wait... Me?’ Theodore was stammering nervously, feeling his cheeks burn.  
‘Don’t you even think of trying to get away with it, Theo’ said Killian warningly. ‘You are going to be Rupert’s godmother, and our priest doesn’t need to know anything about your divorce.’  
For the third time in his adult life, in front of his stepson and the Leader’s wife, Theodore burst into tears in profound despair.  
‘Don’t cry, uncle’ said young Hugo worriedly, climbing onto Theodore’s knees. ‘Come, we hug’ he announced, putting his short arms around Theodore’s neck.  
‘Aren’t you a little darling’ whispered Theodore through the tears, hugging the little boy back, until one of Jay’s servants was called to take the child away.  
‘I can’t be Rupert’s godmother, as much as I would love to’ said Theodore in a thick voice, choking on the words. ‘It would only bring the baby bad luck...’  
Rather than being insulted, both Killian and Jay seemed to be hardly surprised by Theodore’s reaction, looking at him as if they were feeling very sorry for Theodore. Unable to hide the truth any longer, Theodore told them what he would not even talk to his husband about – his parents’ crimes, his penance, and how God did not think him worthy enough to give him a child, because he let his siblings die.  
Blowing his nose into a clean diaper that Killian had handed him, and wiping away the still coming tears, Theodore listened to the story of Jay’s own birth in the women’s camp to his unmarried mother, and to Killian, telling him about the dark thoughts that he had had during his pregnancy, wishing that his babies were dead.  
‘Have you and Matthew thought about adopting?’ Jay asked.  
Theodore looked at him with so much gratefulness in his eyes – even after how horrible he had been to poor Jay, the Leader’s wife was still willing to pretend that he did not see Theodore’s undone trousers button and his swollen nipples, poking through the fabric of his shirt. In Jay’s eyes, Theodore could see that knew – he knew how it felt to stare the truth in the face, while desperately trying not to see it, because if you looked to closely, it might turn out not be the truth after all.  
‘Crap, I could kill for some beer right now’ stated Killian, looking down at his own, swollen and hard breasts, leaking with milk again.

 

On Sunday afternoon, a week after Theodore and Matthew became little Rupert’s godparents, Theodore was walking around the house, massaging his bloated stomach, suffering from a terrible indigestion. Things were bubbling and moving inside him, and he promised himself to never again overindulge on Matthew’s cakes and pastries, as he had put on a lot of weight recently.  
Theodore went from room to room, wondering where it would be best to move his reading corner and free up the nursery, if him and Matthew ever decided to adopt a baby. He was walking between one spare bedroom and another, checking where the light was best, when he felt a sharp, rapid pain in his abdomen.  
Matthew, alarmed by Theodore’s scream, run upstairs from the kitchen, where he was making yet another pie, as his wife was refusing to eat anything else at the moment.  
After carrying Theodore to bed, Matthew rushed to get one of the neighbours to call Rhyl and Radyr, but there was no need for it – Killian’s family was already parking their cart at Matthew’s front door, conveniently enough having decided to pay them an unexpected visit before church.  
Theodore was white-lipped and shaking, already undressed and ready to be examined.  
‘Save my baby, I’m begging you, save my baby! Kill me if you have to, but save my son!’ Theodore was repeating, trying to hold back the tears.  
Rhyl checked everything on the outside and the inside, and then smiled reassuringly.  
‘Theo well, baby well. Son want more room’ he explained, outstretching his arms in demonstration.

 

Even after Theodore’s belly button popped, and when he could no longer walk, but only waddle, he would still not let Matthew get the nursery ready, and would not hear of making any more crocheted baby socks. Everyone was walking around Theodore on tiptoes, and they were all looking at him with great concern, as due to sleepless nights and constant worry, he was now looking gravely ill.  
Theodore would only ever talk to Jay.  
‘It will be born deformed, it will suffer and then die, and it’s all going to be my fault’ he was weeping in Jay’s arms. ‘God will never allow me to have something so good.’  
‘We’ll be here for you, no matter what’ Jay was saying over and over again, and Theodore loved him with all his heart for not trying to say more stupid things, that everyone else was saying: that everything is going to be fine, that Theodore is going to be a wonderful mother...  
‘Pregnancy vapours’ Matthew would explain apologetically, whenever Theodore run away from them all yet again, shutting the door loudly behind himself.  
‘Nothing that they have not seen before’ Killian would admit without a hint of shame.  
Theodore would not let anyone touch his belly – not even Matthew. He still wrote to his father every month, but not even once did he mention anything about the pregnancy.  
On a Winter morning, a month after Christmas, when Theodore’s contractions started, he was wailing in terror in Matthew’s arms, never feeling so distressed and frightened in his life.  
‘I don’t want to stop being pregnant’ he kept saying. ‘I want him to stay where he is safe, I love him so much and I don’t want to hurt him, make him stay there forever, Matthew!’  
After a textbook delivery, Radyr handed Theodore his son and he was perfect, so perfect, and he was crying so loudly when his little fist was clutching strongly to Theodore’s finger, but Theodore knew that it was all too good to be true.  
Looking back, he could not understand how he could ever judge Killian for struggling, after his babies had been born. Theodore did not reject his beloved son, but he was hardly well enough to be a mother in the first months after the birth, and if it weren’t for Matthew and everyone else, he dreaded to think how his baby would even survive.  
For days after little Timothy Jay was born, Theodore would refuse to close his eyes for longer than five minutes, constantly guarding his baby, convinced that something was going to take him away from him. Every time Timmy cried, Theodore would break down in desperate sobs, because his baby was suffering, he was unhappy, and Theodore was failing him.  
One night, Matthew woke up to find his wife walking on the snow into the forest, bare-footed and with nothing but a thin nightshirt on his body, convinced that he had to run away to protect his family, before God killed Timmy and Matthew to punish Theodore for his parents’ sins.  
Rhyl and Radyr had to start giving Theodore strong medicines after that, which sedated him enough to keep him in bed, but not enough to stop him from wailing in guilt, because he was no longer able to breastfeed his baby. Killian and Jay, who were fortunately still breastfeeding themselves, were taking turns wet-nursing little Timmy, while making sure that Theodore was not going to lose his own milk, and Theodore was certain that now their own babies, despite all already being on solids, were going to starve to death.  
Eventually, one morning, Theodore woke up feeling a little bit better, and although it did not last very long, the following morning it happened again; this time for a bit longer. Slowly by slowly, he was coming back, and he was never by himself – his husband, friends and family were there for him, and little Timmy still needed his mother, latching on strongly to Theodore’s nipple, as soon as it was safe for him to do so.  
Theodore was now talking to God every day, and all the signs that were being sent his way, seemed to tell that God did not want Theodore to suffer anymore, and that he wanted Theodore to have trust in Him instead.  
By the time the snow began to melt and Timmy was two months old, Theodore was very carefully, very anxiously, feeling the happiest that anyone could ever be.

 

Eight months later, it was autumn again, and Matthew’s bakery back home was now being leased, and their old house let to George’s friends, who were happy to sign the contract for the next five years. With the money going to Matthew’s Home Bank account every month, on top of their savings and the profit that the Southern bakery was making, there was no reason to worry about the future.  
‘Theo pregnant’ announced Radyr after taking one look at Theo, who was busy adoring his baby son in Killian’s garden.  
Jay, James, Killian and young Hugo all gasped in terror.  
‘I know’ answered Theo calmly, kissing one perfect little foot, then another, and making Timmy smile.  
It was very early, but Theo knew already, somehow.  
‘That’s right, you little miracle, you are going to have a baby brother soon, and mother and father are going to wipe that stupid Old Party smile out of that bastard eunuch of mother’s first husband’s face once and for all, isn’t that right?’  
‘Pregnancy vapours’ explained Matthew apologetically, justifying his wife’s choice of words to everyone present.  
‘Only two more babies to go’ reassured him Theo, and Matthew choked on his drink.  
Theo now knew what God’s plan for him was. After falling pregnant for the first time on his honeymoon, another miracle had taken place, and barely ten months after Timmy’s birth, Theo was expecting again, and it had all happened naturally. He knew that he was going to give birth to a healthy, happy, beautiful boy, just like he had to Timmy, and he had no doubt that he was then going to get pregnant for the third time, and this time also unaided. God was giving his family all the babies that had been lost, just as it was always meant to be. It was never Theo himself – it was his first husband, who could not have children, and thank heavens for that, because Theo had simply married a wrong man at the time.  
Father wrote to Theo recently, delighted to inform that his son’s first husband was now going through a second divorce barely a week after his wedding, and the whole society now knew about his “impotency”, while sending their kindest regards and most sincere congratulations to their dearest friend Theodore.  
To quote Killian, they could all kiss Theo’s skinny, Southern arse.


End file.
